


Motorcycles

by kari2171



Series: Things Mycroft never thought he would like. (But he does) [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Rupert Graves in leather, motorcycles are fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 07:11:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8003218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kari2171/pseuds/kari2171
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft never had a thing for bad boys before, but...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Motorcycles

**Author's Note:**

> Edited to finish it. Done now.

Mycroft had always considered motorcycles a dangerous and inefficient means of travel.  Being chauffeured always seemed to make the most sense. He could check e-mail, make phone calls. and sometimes even sleep while traveling across London.  If he needed to have complete privacy, say while meeting a foreign national who shouldn't even be in London, and he couldn't even have a driver know they were talking to representative of that country, he still could listen to the stock market reports or check that the radio press hadn't figured out what really happened behind the scenes in the British Government. (They never did, but it always paid to be prepared for any eventuality).  He had been surprised to learn that Greg was the owner of motorcycle. This was discovered during a routine background check many years earlier. (Of course he ran a background check on Greg, although at the time, he only knew him as Lestrade, the police officer willing to let Sherlock help solve mysteries as long as he stayed clean.)  To be honest, Mycroft hadn't thought about it after reading the report. At least until his town car pulled up outside Sherlock's flat just as Greg had turned off the bike and was removing his helmet. 

At first, Mycroft only noticed that Greg was sitting on a bike.  Most of his attention was on Greg himself. Seeing the man from the back gave him reign to look without embarrassment.  Greg was wearing well worn blue jeans and a black leather jacket that old enough to be well broken in.  Mycroft got out of the car and sent his driver away.  By then Greg was waiting for him on the step of 221 Baker Street.

"Oh, Hello. Did they call you too?" Lestrade asked.

"No, I have some paperwork to drop off for Sherlock to probably ignore." Mycroft answered. "Why are you needed?"

"No idea, Sherlock just texted that he had something for me, and I was just out for a ride, so figured I would stop by."

"So this is the motorcycle." Mycroft said, finally taking his eyes off Greg and onto the bike. Greg walked back towards the bike so Mycroft was forced to follow, secretly admiring exactly how well the jeans fit.

"Yep. Not even going to ask how you knew I had one when I never talk about it, but this is mine."

"Yes well," Mycroft wasn't sure what to ask, but wasn't yet ready to go and face what was sure to be a tantrum out of Sherlock,"What kind is it?"

"A 2001 Triumph Bonneville."

"That is a good brand." Mycroft said, thinking he sounded sure of himself.

"You have no idea whether it is or not, do you?"

"Not really. It is a British company, is it not?"

"It is. My dad had an old Triumph that my mum was forced to sell after he died. I loved that bike, so when I made detective, I splurged."

"Your wife didn't worry?" Mycroft inwardly cringed. Why could he talk to heads of state without issue but managed to always stick his foot in it when speaking to Greg. The ex- wife would always be a sore subject.

"Oh, I slept on the couch for a week, but that had more to do with the money than any worry over me, I'm sure." Greg replied with a bitter chuckle. Shaking his head as though it would rid his mind of unpleasant thoughts, he smiled at Mycroft and asked, "Want to take a spin around the neighborhood?"

Mycroft really didn't want to look the fool in front of Greg. Thinking quickly he said,"Don't you need special license to pilot one of these?"

"I didn't mean drive. I meant ride behind me. One street over, the traffic is always pretty light. We could take it slow."

"What about a helmet? I wouldn't feel safe without one."

"Believe it or not, Mrs. Hudson has one. I've given her a spin in the past. Let me go and get it."

Greg ran the bell for 221 A. Mycrofts last hope for a reprieve was dashed when Mrs. Hudson opened the door. Over on the curb Mycroft couldn't hear the conversation, but in just a moment Greg returned holding a bright pink helmet followed by Mrs. Hudson herself.

Mycroft knew there was no backing down now.

"Sorry about the color," Greg said, "but they both can be connected through blue-tooth so we can at least sort of communicate."

"Did you need something Mrs. Hudson?" Mycroft asked.

"No, just thought I would get a bit of fresh air and see you off." She replied with a gleam in her eye. "Have you ever even been on a motorbike?"

"Not that it is any of your concern, but no, I have not. I'm sure Greg will take care to show me what I need to know." he replied with a confidence he wasn't sure he felt.

 "That I will.  I'll get on and get her started and then you get on behind me.  Hold me around the waist, and put your feet on these spokes." he said pulling down two little rods.  "At the corners, I'll put my feet down, but you keep yours up and out of the way. You'll have to trust that I have control."

"I do trust you Greg."

"All right, those are the important bits, but remember I've hooked the helmets up so we can talk if needed."

Greg put on his helmet, stradled the machine and started it up.  The roar startled Mycroft but he kept from outwardly jumping.  Mrs. Hudson smiled knowingly anyway.  Greg mimed putting on the helmet so Mycroft put it on.  It went on very tightly until he got it settled into place.  

"Can you hear me Mycroft?" Greg asked.

"I can."

"And I can hear you. So climb up behind me."

Mycroft walked up to the curb and stood for a moment trying to figure out the best way to board.  Finally he stood slightly towards the back and swung his leg over. He tried to leave a bit of space between himself and Greg, but the way the seat was designed, he slid into Greg's backside. He tried to figure out what to do with his arms, holding his hands out to the side, when Greg grabbed them and wrapped them around his waist.  

"All set?" Greg asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be." Mycroft replied, hoping he didn't sound too scared.  

And just like that Greg pulled out into traffic.  Even with the warning, the sudden increase in velocity and shear amount of noise led to Mycroft clutching Greg tightly. 

"I still need to breathe My." Greg said gently. Mycroft let up on his grip.  "That's better.  When we come to the corner. Just follow the line of my body with yours, don't try to lean more than I do. "

Mycroft felt the bike turn 90 degree to the left.  He still had his eyes clenched tight.

"There, this stretch of road is calm this time of day. Should have smooth sailing for a bit."  Mycroft nodded. 

"Look up Mycroft. Hiding your head in my back is no way to enjoy the ride."

Mycroft opened his eyes slowly and turned his head a fraction to the left.  He now saw that despite the noise, they weren't actually traveling that fast.  He had left the face plate in the upright position he had found it in so now could feel a bit of the wind against the part of his face not covered by Gregs back.

"Where I we headed?" Mycroft asked.

"Just up a bit is a nice stretch of road lined with trees. A pretty, calm drive." Greg said.

 

Mycroft felt his thought drifting.  He thought about all he should be doing at the office, but it didn't seem as important somehow.  Greg turned to the right and Mycroft hugged him closer so they moved as one.  He could feel the power of the bike but also the feeling that Greg had it completely under his control.  It brought to mind a memory he hadn't thought of in years, of learning to ride on the front of his mothers saddle on her favorite thoroughbred.  He found himself relaxing, almost against his will.  He lost complete track of time and space. It came as a surprise when they turned back onto Baker Street.

Greg Stopped the bike and held it steady as Mycroft climbed off. Thankfully, Mrs Hudson wasn't around to see him stumble a bit.  His legs felt like jello.

Greg turned off the bike and dismounted himself. Removing his helmet, he asked, "So what did you think?"

"It was truly relaxing Greg. Thank you."

"Enough that you'd want to go again sometime?" Greg asked.

"Definitely. I really enjoyed myself."

"I enjoyed having your arms around me."

"Well, we don't need the motorcycle for that, now do we?" Mycroft said as he stepped into Gregs embrace.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I am sure there aren't any quiet streets in the heart of london and have no idea what kind of helmet laws they might have.
> 
> If any one wants to brit pick I wouldn't mind the help,


End file.
